Across the Waters
by DracosDrummerGirl
Summary: Sent on a mission by the Ministry, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy must work together to stop the Evil that is rising. Everything is about to change.
1. Her First Day

Hermione was right on time. And by Hermione standards, that meant that she was precisely twenty five minutes early.

She had made it a habit to be continuously punctual with anything and everything. As a student, assignments were never missed nor late, as well as any opportunity for extra credit. During the war, she was always where she needed to be, ready the minute anything was supposed to happen. And now, five years after the war, she entered her new workplace bright-eyed, bushy haired, and early.

The Ministry of Magic had become quite successful as well as dependable since Voldemort's demise. Under the eyes of the the new Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and with the help of volunteers from every magical species, the structure and staff had been replaced and buffed to reflect the opportunity and pride it once again radiated. It now provided so many with jobs and second chances, and Hermione was thrilled to be a part of it all.

Crossing into the threshold of her new office, a spark lit behind her eyes, igniting her excitement for the third time that morning. She released a squeal of delight as she bounded her way to the comfortable desk chair she and Ginny had picked out last week while having a "Celebratory Office Decorating Shopping Spree". Staring at her desk, the flame inside her grew as she read her shiny, golden nameplate that sat towards the edge, whispering the words aloud and relishing in the tasteful way they rolled off her tongue. "Hermione Granger, Head Investigator, Auror Department".

She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face, and jumped especially high at the sudden knock at her office door. Quickly, she pulled herself together. Smoothing her hair down quite unsuccessfully, she took one more deep breath and felt her heart slow it's excited thump to a normal human tempo. "Come in," She said, shocking herself with how calm her voice made her sound. She shifted her features to mirror such coolness.

The door opened with a slow and soft creak, and two figures entered with wide smiles. The first was none other than the Minister of Magic himself, who crossed the room in long and patient strides. His arms were open to embrace her. "Welcome to the Ministry, Ms. Granger." He said, hugging her tightly.

"Oh, don't call me that." she laughed. "It is and will always be Hermione."

Kingsley's chest hummed against her cheek in a humbled chuckle, making Hermione's happiness double. Since she had heard of her parents unfortunate deaths, which happened only days before the final battle, the Minister had made it his duty to care for and protect the witch. They'd become a family of two, to the point that she had lived in his mother-in-law suite at his home for over a year and a half now. He was the father figure she had so desperately been missing; Comforting, teaching, and caring for her just as her biological family always had.

"Ah, but in the workplace, we must remain professional, yes?" He pulled back and looked down at her, raising an eyebrow. "The minister can't play favorites."

"Not like the last few have." The voice of the person who had come in with Kingsley snarked. Hermione had completely forgotten about the other person in the room at her dear friend's entrance, and looked just in time for him to step around the Minister and into her point of view. "Mustn't repeat history."

As she stared at the face that now stood directly in front of her, a nervous lump grew in the back of her throat. He was possibly the most beautiful being she had seen in a long while, but past discretions made her struggle to admire him. She glanced to Kingsley, who noticed her hesitation and cleared his throat. "I believe you remember Mr. Malfoy, Hermione." He said, his facade collected, and his eyes intensely trusting. Hermione looked back at the man, who stared at her with a strange expression she had never seen him direct at her: interest.

"Mr. Malfoy was my father. Please call me Draco." He said cooly, never tearing his eyes from hers.

She held a hand out for him to shake. It seemed to her that if Kingsley was bringing him to her office her first day, she'd be working with Draco often enough and must learn to trust him. The past was the past, and though working with her childhood enemy was not her first choice and could prove difficult, she'd survive it. She'd survived a whole bloody war, she'd be damned if she didn't survive working with the beautiful Slytherin. "It's been a long time, Draco."

Without hesitation or breaking eye contact, he grabbed her hand. "It has indeed been too long, Hermione." He smirked as he said her first name for the first time. "You're looking quite well." Hermione's cheeks burned immediately and she tore from his gaze. A soft "Thank you" was all she could utter as she turned around and sat in her chair. She motioned for the men to sit across from her in the two well-cushioned seats Ginny had insisted she get for her guests. Kingsley sat back with a thoroughly content sigh, giving Hermione a look that said he was all the more happy about her choice of seating arrangements.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Gentleman?" She said, stealing a look at Draco who was grinning like mad in her direction. He was leaning into the left arm of his chair, resting his chin on his fist and his legs were crossed. Hermione then noticed his hair was not slicked back as it always had been, but lying loose atop his head like a silky blonde mop. In fact, his entire outfit, though clean and pressed, was quite relaxed, compared to what young Draco would wear. He wore dark wash muggle jeans and a deep emerald collared button-down, unbuttoned at the top enough for her to almost feel uncomfortable with how much she enjoyed the sight. It was so different to see Draco Malfoy, so pleasant on the eyes and so different with his mannerisms that he seemed almost friendly. Hermione shook her head at such an irrational train of thought and returned her eyes to Kingsley.

"We have your first case for you." Kingsley said, the seriousness in his voice bringing Hermione back to light that it was time to work.

She frowned. "Already?"

The two nodded. "We need to begin immediately," Kingsley folded his hands in his lap, looking the epitome of power and determination. Hermione always admired that about Kingsley, he was always one to get straight to the point. "We've received notice of a group of dark wizards who call themselves the Black Kings. They've been attacking small groups of people around the globe, but the number of fatalities is increasing exponentially."

"Where are they based?" She asked, leaning her chin against her folded hands and resting her elbows on the desk.

"They're centralized in the United States, actually." Draco said, the smile wiped clean from his face and replaced with firm stare. "We believe their headquarters to be somewhere in the Northwest Region, near some building with a name that sounds like a knitting utensil?"

"You mean near the Space Needle in Seattle?" Both men nodded, making Hermione huff. "What a random place!"

"Not quite," Kingsley hummed, almost to himself.

Hermione glanced at him, but he couldn't catch his attention. "What do they want? Who are they targeting?"

She looked back and forth between Kingsley and Draco before the latter leaned forward, a grim darkness in his eyes. "They're targeting people like us."

She frowned. "Us?"

Draco let out an exasperated sigh. "Muggleborns and Muggle sympathizers, as well as traitors of the Dark Lord. As far as we are aware, they are taking over where Voldemort left off." He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "They began their efforts just in U.S., but are getting closer every day. They're planning to finish their destruction with an all-out annihilation of the Ministry of Magic."

As Draco spoke, the information swirled through Hermione's mind. She'd known there were more of Voldemort's followers out there with plans on continuing the job he had set out to finish, but none of them had been strong enough as of yet to get so far. Each plan and group had been compromised before any real damage was done. "How do we have all this information?"

"All that we know is from the lone survivor of one of the attacks." Kingsley cleared his throat. "Draco here was on a holiday in California when the first happened."

Hermione's heart stopped and she looked at Draco with fear and sympathy decorating her features. For once, her eyes did not meet with his as he stared down at his shoes uncomfortably, as if recollecting a dark memory of pain that was meant to be forgotten. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and watched the handsome face that always looked so pompous and cold crumble, revealing a hurt and lost soul that longed to escape it's darkness.

"How did you survive?" Hermione's voice was just above a whisper. She felt as if she had spoken at any louder volume, the man before her would break entirely.

Draco was silent for a moment, and the only sound that could be heard slicing through the thick air was the breathing of the three persons in the room. He looked up to meet her gaze, his eyes glazed over as he reminisced. "I was there with my mum," He said, shifting awkwardly in his seat. "Sitting by the hotel pool when they captured us. Knocked us unconscious and took us to their headquarters in that Needle." Draco paused. "We were on a holiday, and they snuck up behind us. Took us both…" His eyes shut and for a moment, Hermione saw a flash of deep anger flow through him, and she couldn't help but think of old Draco, the one in Hogwarts who was so full of hate. In a flash, the hot headed boy was back at full strength with a black purpose gearing him toward the darkest of dark paths. But it was gone as soon as it came, and the serene sadness returned. "I came-to early enough and was able to hear bits and pieces of their discussions. Don't remember how, but I escaped and was able to apparate back here without being followed."

A question itched at the back of her throat that she failed to swallow down. Did she really want to know the answer? No but she had to know everything. "And your mother? Did she escape?"

Draco practically winced. "She was still alive when I left, I think."

He stared at Hermione with such sadness. She nodded slightly, conveying her understanding of his pain. She knew what it meant to be hunted, to be caught and tortured, and to escape. She remembered the roller coaster of emotions that she rode for months, the hurt and shame, the pride from escape, the confusion and the worry that the past would repeat itself. It was exactly what Draco was going through and though he was who he was, all she wanted to do was hug him and tell him everything would be okay.

She looked to Kingsley, who watched the exchange with a concentrated frown. Clearing her throat, Hermione sat up in her chair and waited for his eyes on hers to ask. "So what can I do?"

"You're up for this?" Kingsley said calmly. "This will be your first assignment, Hermione. We can start off slow."

Hermione let out a cough of dry laughter. "It's not like it will be my first mission ever, Kingsley. You don't think Harry defeated Voldemort on his own, do you?"

They looked at one another for a long lasting second. Hermione was determined to help with this. She was said to be the brightest witch of her age, and turning down such an opportunity would be a foolish move. Something was pushing, practically shoving her to do this, and as her eyes found Draco's solemn grey's once more, she knew she would have to solve this case, if it was the last thing she'd do.

**A/N: HELLOOOOO READERS! I have been planning this story for months now and I'm so happy to finally post the first chapter. I sincerely hope you all enjoy it! Please leave review and let me know your thoughts on what you've just read! Everything helps! :) **


	2. Saying their Goodbyes

"A mission on the first day? That's practically unheard of," Ron's words struggled through a mouthful of freshly baked breadsticks his sister had just set on the table.

Ginny smacked the back of his head, rolling her eyes as he choked dramatically. "Don't say it like that, you half wit. It's Hermione we're talking about, not you."

"Oi!" Ron blushed. "You sayin' I'm not good enough to get missions first day?"

"Obviously."

"Alright, alright you two." Harry laughed as he entered the room, promptly sitting at the head of the table beside Ron. "You're bickering like children."

Hermione grinned. "Don't say it like that, Harry. It is Ron we're talking about." Ginny gasped for air as she crumbled in her seat between Harry and George in a fit of laughter. Ron pouted back in his seat, mockingly glaring at Hermione, who stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

"What can you tell us about it?" George grinned from across the table. "Can I come?"

Hermione smiled at the lonely twin and shook her head. "Not this time George. And I can't say much. I can tell you I'm leaving the country tomorrow and going undercover to find some wannabe Death Eaters." She glanced over at Harry, whose eyes were drowning in concern.

"Boy, that's big, 'Mione," Ron said between bites. "Sounds pretty intense if you ask me."

Hermione nodded and looked at her plate. "It is."

"Are you scared?" Ginny said.

Hermione painted on a hesitant smile. "Not really. I know Harry has my back."

Harry grinned. "You bet I do." As head of the Auror department, Harry had been filled in on the details of the assignment. He'd made it clear that he wasn't fond of the assignment in the slightest, but that if there was any sign of danger, to call him immediately. He'd approached Hermione upon arrival and warned her to be careful more times than she could count.

The group decided to enjoy their last dinner together till Hermione's return with full enthusiasm. George broke into the third bottle of Firewhisky at about midnight, guzzling half of it before passing it to Hermione, who finished the other half with a wince. The two had grown quite close over the past five years. When she and Ron had split, on good terms, George had made it his priority to ensure that Hermione never felt like she wasn't part of the family. He was like her crazy yet loveable older brother, while she was his shoulder to lean on.

Ron crashed on the couch, snoring and drooling happily against one of the hand crocheted pillows Mrs. Weasley had made when Harry, Ginny, and Ron had moved into Grimmauld. The place was decorated in deep maroons and flashing golds, Gryffindor pride in every corner. Anything that hadn't belonged to Sirius had been torn down and burned, and all that had belonged to him had been moved to his old bedroom on Harry's request. The rest of the house had been taken over by the single female resident, who'd fullfilled her desires to decorate her own home with the latest gadgets and finest decorations she could get at a low price, making the house itself almost completely opposite from the Burrow. The only exception were the various hand knitted blanket and pillow covers from Mrs. Weasley.

Harry and Ginny went to bed at around one, leaving George and Hermione alone. They looked at each other for a long moment, letting time pass in calm silence. "I'm gonna miss you, 'Mione." George finally said, his voice drowsy. "It'll be lonely around here without you."

She shrugged it off, standing to grab a glass of water for each of them. "You'll be fine, George. You have Angelina." She gave him a wink, resulting in the rare blush of embarrassment to flood George's cheeks. Hermione giggled and set the water down in front of him. "She really is quite fond of you, you know."

"Yeah," He said, his eyebrows bouncing suggestively. "Why wouldn't she?"

Hermione practically spat her water across the room. "You, my friend, are trouble." Glancing up at the clock in the corner of the room, the pressure of tomorrows travels finally landed on her shoulders. Downing a sober potion she'd knowingly stuffed in her purse, she looked at her friend "I should probably go. Still have a load of packing to do before tomorrow."

She grabbed her jacket and George stood. "I'll walk you out."

They walked towards the front door, careful to make no noise as to wake Ron, and stepped quietly into the crisp, winter wind. George shut the front door behind him and turned to her, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Well, safe travels I guess."

Hermione giggled. "Safe travels? Your best friend is going on a dangerous mission out of the country for who knows how long," She waved her hands dramatically around her, causing a smile to pull at his mouth. "And all you have to say to me is safe travels?" She put her hands on her hips. "I'm disappointed in you, George."

He laughed. "Well in that case!" Almost knocking both of them over, George jumped, wrapping his arms tightly around Hermione's waist and spinning them quickly around. She laughed loudly, wrapping her arms around his neck. After many rotations and many laughs, he finally set her down, planting a large wet kiss on her cheek. Both hands on her shoulders he pulled back to look at her, grinning like mad. "Kick Evil's ass, 'Mione." She leaned forward, leaving a kiss on his cheek before apparating a block away from Kingsley's home and walking with a confidence she hoped would stay throughout these next couple of weeks.

It was an understatement to say that Draco was a bit nervous to leave for the mission. The thought of it made his stomach lurch in a way that made him uncomfortable and excited all at once. He glanced into the mirror for the eighth time in the last ten minutes, checking just one more time to make sure every hair was perfectly unruffled.

"You're going bonkers, Blondie,"

"Shut up, Zabini."

Draco watched the tall dark figure that was his roommate lean against the bathroom doorway. "I swear, mate, I have never seen a man look at himself so much. Who are you even seeing today?"

"It's none of your business, Blaise." Draco scoffed, smoothing the dark grey dress shirt for the fourth time. "I'm not seeing anyone. You know I'm leaving for America."

Blaise's dark eyebrows furrowed, his expression drowning in focused worry upon his friend. "Is it about the Space Needle thing?"

Draco simply nodded, turning away from the mirror and exiting the room toward the kitchen. He heard Blaise follow him down the short hallway, and instinctively rolled his eyes as he picked up his keys and wallet from the counter and his duffle from the floor. "I'm fine. No need to babysit and follow me like I'm a lost puppy-"

"Oh but you are a lost puppy! Look at you!" Blaise grinned slightly at his jab, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and forcing them to make eye contact. "You look like someone's holding a treat in front of your face, but you know the shock collar'll get you if you try and reach for it."

"Nice analogy."

"Thank you, I've been planning it for days." He released Draco's shoulders and crossed his arms, the shadow of a smirk passing over the grim worry. "You've got me worried, Draco. And I'm a Slytherin. I don't worry."

"You're just worried that if something happens to me, you'll have to pay all of the rent or go out and find someone dumb enough to live with you."

"You just called yourself dumb." Blaise grinned.

"Don't start with me," Draco said, smacking his friend upside the head with a good hard THWACK. Blaise flinched and rubbed at the pain, but a genuine grin grew along his features and the room's energy immediately slowed to a light calm. The two stood in comfortable silence for a moment, each thinking of nothing at all, staring at everything but each other.

Blaise shifted his weight back and forth, a nervous habit of his that immediately captured Draco's attention. "What's wrong, Zabini?" His voice was laced with puzzlement.

Blaise shrugged, his eyes locked at a spot on the floor near Draco's shoes.  
"Nothing, Mate. Have fun on your trip," He clapped Draco on the shoulder, the most affection the two ever showed each other. "Be careful."

"Don't get weepy." Draco smirked. "I'll owl you when I'm on my way back. Don't want to surprise you or myself in my return."

**A/N: So I know this chapter wasn't exciting, but I hope it spoke to what Hermione and Draco were leaving behind. Don't worry. The excitement is coming ;) REVIEW! **


	3. In the Air

Draco wanted to hurl.

The plane's turbulence was tossing them around like limp rag dolls, and he was starting to thoroughly regret the mornings decision to eat before flying. He wished they could have apperated. Or flown in brooms, or even portkey even. Yet Kingsley had insisted on this style of travel in order to "keep a low profile".

He swore under his breath as they hit another bump in the air. Cautiously, he turned his head to see how his partner in crime was holding up, hoping she was bearing it with even or more amounts of pain.

She didn't even looked fazed, her face showing no signs of discomfort. She looked as comfortable as if she was sitting in the library, reading her book without a care in the world. Feeling eyes on her, Hermione looked up from her book and she looked at him, frowning in concern for him. "Are you alright?" she asked as she pulled an earbud from her ear, pressing a button on the strange, flat gadget that sat in her lap. "You're all green."

Draco growled. "I'm fine."

"You look like you're going to be sick." She scowled. pulling out her wand, Hermione pointed it straight at the middle of his forehead, and it took everything he had not to squeal in fear. Last time they had been in this position, she turned around and broken his nose. She rolled her eyes. "Chill, Malfoy," she said calmly, though there was a tone of irritation in her voice. "I'm just going to use a charm to help with the motion sickness," She whispered an incantation Draco barely heard before a flood of sweet relief flushed through his head. The dizziness disappeared almost immediately, along with the swirling in his stomach. He mumbled a quiet thanks before leaning back in his seat, relishing in the wondrous solace he was felt.

An uncomfortable silence passed between them for a moment. Hermione opened her book back up, when he turned to face her again. "Don't you hate flying or something?"

Hermione didn't even look away from her reading. "Brooms and planes are very different things, Malfoy?"

He sighed. "My name's Draco, thanks."

She winced slightly, finally meeting his eyes. "Sorry. Old habits die hard."

"Trust me." He nodded. "I know."

Hermione closed her book and situated herself to face him, leaning her face in her palm. Her eyes glistened curiously, and Draco was glad the aisle between them was wide. The way she was looking at him made him feel… strange.

"Tell me about after the war. What happened to you?" Her words held no malice or ill intent. He didn't answer her for a moment and they both stared at his hands as he played with a loose string in the armrest of his seat. The confidence that Hermione was used to seeing in him was gone.

"It's a long story." He said. His features rested soft, despite his intensely thoughtful expression.

"I like stories."

She was smiling at him. A sincere smile that Draco was sure he hadn't seen directed toward him since… well he wasn't sure when. That strange feeling grew a bit more and he looked away before it could get uncomfortable. "Maybe later."

Hermione watched as his guards flew up, the stony, emotionless expression he'd worn during their years at Hogwarts was back and she didn't see it leaving anytime soon. She picked up her book in silence, pushing her earphones in and pressing play on her ipod. Curling into a ball on her seat, she let herself fade into the words on the page and the screaming chorus in her ear.

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me your thoughts on this chapter! :) **


	4. Landing and Welcoming

They were soaked to the bone before they even reached the bottom of the stairway off the plane. The rain fell like thick, wet, bullets and the wind howled in their ears. Hermione summoned all the patience she could to force her curls into a bun on top of her head, a normally mindless motion turned practically impossible. It would take her forever to dry her hair again, and she decided at that moment she hated Seattle.

Draco rushed up from behind her with an umbrella gripped tightly in both hands so it wouldn't fly away. She flashed a grim smile that held as much gratitude as she could muster, but frankly, the weather was killing any good feelings she'd had before. With his hand barely touching the middle of her back, her ushered them both to run towards the nearby doorway, where they'd been told to go to be picked up and driven to the American Ministry of Magic. Hermione was starting to feel a bit hesitant toward the whole thing, and with Kingsley not there to comfort her like he had for the last few years. And her new and sudden compassion toward Draco Malfoy of all people just made it all worse.

They barrelled through the doorway and found themselves in a warm and almost empty room. A tall man stood in the corner, intensely blue eyes staring them down. He stood as if he owned the world, his hands in his pockets, looking down his nose and through his rounded spectacles at them, watching their every move.

Hermione quickly muttered a spell to dry off their clothes and approached the man, arm extended and grinning politely. "Hello, you must be-"

"I am." The man interrupted. His voice was gruff and hollow. "And I know who you are, Mrs. Granger."

Hermione glared up at the man, who she'd apparently correctly assumed to be the American minister's assistant, Roman McCoy, internally appalled that he would be so rude. "It's Miss Granger, but most call me Hermione."

"It's not like that matters." The man looked emotionless over her shoulder at Draco, who was mirroring his power stance almost exactly, except for slightly amused smirk that played at the corners of his mouth. "You can both follow me." McCoy turned abruptly and exited through the doorway opposite of the room where Hermione and Draco had entered. She looked over her shoulder at her partner, eyebrows high on her forehead.

He frowned at the door as it swung back and forth. "McCoy's a big bag of daisies, isn't he?" Draco growled. Smiling smugly, she nodded and led them through the doorway to a parking garage. McCoy stood beside the open back door of a large black sedan, motioning for them to enter it as they got closer. "You're gonna have incredible frown lines if you keep looking at us like that, Mate." Draco smirked, ducking into the car.

Hermione watched McCoy close his eyes for moment, as if ushering personal zen. When he reopened his eyes, they rolled upward. "Get in already."

Roman ended up climbing in after Hermione, sitting close enough to make her skin crawl. She scooted over on the bench seat, feeling a little more safe and comfortable with the small amount of distance between herself and the American, even if she was practically cuddling Draco.

The car began to move, and Roman began to speak. "First things first," his voice rumbled in the small space of the car, sounding extremely bored. "You can't let what ever this is," he motioned toward them without looking. "Interfere with the assignment."

Draco snorted. "Not a thing to worry about, McCoy."

"We're just business partners." Hermione finished.

McCoy glared at the seat in front of him. "Likely story."

Hermione groaned loudly, feeling Draco chuckle to himself beside her. "Can we discuss the rules at the ministry? We've had a long flight, and your voice is the last thing I want to listen to right now."

Draco had to force his jaw to do anything but drop to the floor. He knew Granger could speak her mind just fine, but damn!

"Sass get's you no where, Sweetheart." McCoy grumbled.

Grabbing his tie, Hermione forced McCoy to look at her. "Do NOT call me Sweetheart ever again, do you understand me?" She whispered through bared teeth. McCoy's eyes were wide as he struggled for a comeback. Draco peered around Hermione to grab the man's attention.

"Best not get her mad, mate. She's a feisty one. Known to break noses." He tapped on his own nose with a wink, holding back a fit of laughter at the blush that appeared on his company's faces, one from pleasant embarrassment, the other out of fear.

A/N: PROGRESSIONNNNNNN. R&amp;R! :)


	5. To The Needle

The ride to the ministry was long and full of awkward silence, but Hermione happily noticed that the rain was letting up and she could now see around the car. Draco kindly opened the window and switched spots with her so she could watch the city sights pass by. Everyone here was so… grungy. She knew that Seattle was known for that sort of garage rock or whatever, but didn't realize the whole of the population would look like so. The amount of beards and flannels made her question the city's sanity and cleanliness. "You'd think soap didn't exist or something." Draco grumbled, obviously noticing the same thing as he peered lazily over her shoulder. Hermione nodded.

The Space Needle suddenly came into view and she leaned out the window a bit, gawking at the odd shape and height of the towering monument. She glanced over at Mccoy, who was staring straight ahead like the back of the passenger seat in front of him held all the secrets of the world. "Mccoy," she cleared her throat, to which he rolled his eyes and glared in her direction, eyebrows raised. "Will we have time to tour the city?"

He sighed in annoyance. "Yes, we won't be keeping you hostage."

Hermione scowled at the man, curious as to how he was so high up in the ministry. "Obviously."

The car stopped just under the Space Needle near a colorful mess of a building. Draco and Hermione stared upon getting out of the vehicle. "What the hell is that?" Draco spat.

"It's the EMP. The experience music project." Mccoy mumbled.

Draco scoffed. "Why did they make it look like a pile of painted garbage then?"

A smirk appeared on Mccoy's face and Hermione noticed there seemed to be no malice in it. "Welcome to Seattle. The Ministry's this way." They followed Mccoy to the foot of the Needle, where a gift shop sat open and full of people. He led them around to the back of the shop and mumbled a short incantation. A large wooden door appeared and Mccoy waved them through. "Get in the first elevator on your right," He said, still sounding bored. "It will take you to the top to meet with Anderson and Kingsley."

Hermione turned in the doorway and frowned. "Kingsley is here?"

Mccoy nodded "He's been here since last night. Apparated around 9 o'clock." Without so much as a goodbye, he shut the door behind them, leaving them alone beside the elevator doors.

"That man sure was a charmer," Draco hummed sarcastically. "I'd love to see him again. Hopefully soon."

Hermione smirked and pushed the elevator button, which made a loud ding and opened almost immediately. "What do you think Kingsley is doing here?" She asked once the elevator started moving upward.

Draco shrugged and leaned against the back of the small box. "He's probably here to make sure things get done the way they should. You never know with Americans."

"You can't base your entire opinion of Americans on that Mccoy twat." She sighed.

Draco's eyes widened and her stared at her. "Hermione Granger, did you just swear?"

She kept her eyes locked straight ahead, smirking at his awe in his tone. "I do swear, Draco. I am an fully grown adult."

"And a short one at that."

"Watch yourself. I'm here to help make sure you survive."

"I don't need you your help to survive."

"I can make sure you don't."

"Don't believe that's possible."

"Bite me."

"Don't tempt me."

Draco chuckled at Hermione's disgusted shudder. The elevator stopped finally and the doors opened with a low whirring sound. They stepped out to see a large business office with large windows that revealed all the sites of the city below. Hermione couldn't help herself, running over and staring down at everything. "This is brilliant."

"You should see the view from my office," someone said behind them. They turned to see a very handsome gentleman, in a very handsome suit, standing very handsomely besides Kingsley. "It's ten times better than this. You can see everything." He had a wide set grin spread across his face, and his deep dark blue eyes shone bright in the glare of the sun peeking from behind the rain-filled clouds. Hermione swallowed back the lump that was growing in her throat, struggling to find words behind her swollen tongue. He was SO handsome.

Draco noticed her hesitation, rolled his eyes, and stepped forward with an arm extended. "Draco Malfoy, Auror.. And you are?"

The man grabbed his hand with gumption shook it. "Austin Anderson, American Minister of Magic. And might I say it is a pleasure, Mister Malfoy."

Draco winced. "Please, call me Draco. Mister Malfoy was my father."

"And from what I've heard and what I see, you are nothing like him, my friend." Anderson said. Draco released his hand with a tight smile and stepped back. Anderson moved to Hermione, who still stood frozen beside the window. "And you have got to be Hermione. It is a pleasure to meet you as well."

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. She blushed feverishly and swallowed again. "It's very nice to meet you too, Sir." She stuttered. His accent was astonishingly attractive. Hermione had never taken to liking the American accent as much. It made them sound dull and ignorant. However, this man was very obviously well educated and all around wonderful.

Kingsley pulled Hermione out of her awkward trance and into a large hug, whispering into her ear. "Wipe the drool from your mouth, dear. He's married."

Hermione felt the excitement drain in one large exhale and released her friend. "Good to see you too, Minister." Kingsley chuckled and shook Draco's hand.  
"Please," Anderson held his arms out, smiling welcomingly. "Let's move to the conference room. We'll discuss tactics and plan some with some of my team members."

Hermione cleared her throat and suddenly found her voice. "How many members of your team will be assisting us?"

"There will be five of us helping you two out, including myself and Mr. Mccoy." He looked over his shoulder at them, concern clouding his features. "I trust he wasn't too terrible to you? He isn't the fuzziest of men, however he was the only one free to pick you up."

"Well I would never think to use fuzzy to describe him." Draco said. He looked over at Hermione and smiled a smile so genuine it hurt, and she couldn't help but grin right back.

**A/N: So I know this chapter was a bit boring but i had to introduce the setting a bit, as well as the Minister. The next few chapters will be awesome and full of action and romance and blahtie blah. Thanks for reading! R&amp;R!**


	6. The Good Guys

**A/N: There are a lot of character's in this scene, more than I'd originally planned, but they're all to be important to the story!**

Draco swallowed back his nervousness as they walked into the conference room. All of this polite activity was a damn chore. The only reason it was even slightly bearable was thanks to Hermione's cheeky comebacks, endless amounts of encouraging smiles, and hilarious out-of-no-where swearing. He knew that if she hadn't been there, he wouldn't even bother being a gentleman.

That knowledge alone made his head hurt. Hermione was changing him for the better, and he wasn't sure if he liked it. He looked over and caught her eye for a split second. She smiled at him, lighting up the world for a moment. No, he definitely liked it.

Damn Gryffindor.

The conference table took up the entirety of the room and was only half full, it's occupants sitting on one side of the table. They all stood as their guests entered, most of them smiling graciously, with the exception of one familiar face closest to the door."How did you get up here?" Hermione said with as much politeness as she could muster up, frozen beside Draco, her hands on her hips.

Roman Mccoy smirked and shrugged, smoothing back his thick hair. "Didja miss me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hardly." Anderson laughed softly at the amusing exchange, making Hermione's cheeks flush a deep maroon. He led them to the four empty seats at the end of the table, sitting himself at the head of it between Mccoy and an empty seat that Kingsley took, while Hermione sat besides him, and Draco besides her.

"Alright, everyone." Anderson grinned as soon as everyone was sitting again. "These are our guests from across the pond. Most of you have met Mr. Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic." Most of the table nodded. Anderson motioned to Hermione, his green eyes glowing. "This is Hermione Granger. She's their brilliant Head of Investigation."

Besides Mccoy, a round-faced brunette lifted her eyes from her paperwork, her eyes flooded with curiosity. She had large eyes, a dark shade of brown that were almost black, and pale skin that looked as if it had never touched sunlight. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of pink the more she stared at Hermione, though she didn't look as much ashamed as ecstatic to get to work. Her short hair stuck straight up, as if that's all she'd been doing for the last forty-eight.

Anderson noticed her excitement and chuckled to himself. "And Hermione this is Kristina Harvey, OUR Head of Investigation. You two will be working together most these next few weeks." Kristina waved, smiling widely and whispering a kind hello. Hermione waved back. The girl looked quite friendly and Hermione had the impression they would get along just fine.

"And this," Anderson moved to point at Draco. "Is Draco Malfoy, one of the finest Aurors their Ministry has to offer." Anderson said proudly.

The man sitting on Kristina's other side gave Draco a once over. "Not the Head Auror?" His voice was slippery, smooth with a tone of arrogance that reminded Hermione of Draco during their Hogwarts days. Draco even noticed the similarity.

Kingsley sat forward in his seat, his features calm, but stern. "The head of the Auror department was already assigned to an important mission. Draco was our best fit and top choice for this assignment." The man sat back in his chair, squinting his already beady eyes in Draco's direction. The two men kept eye contact as the air around them became constricting.

Draco felt hot. His as pulse began to race, and he clenched his fists under the table. The old, familiar flush of rage drowned his head. He started counting his breaths, a trick he'd taught himself to do to control his anger. He couldn't let this arse get into his head already, it was just the beginning of the game! He had to calm himself. He'd been so good about this since the Battle.

A small hand found the crook of his elbow, and his eyes followed the arm up to Hermione's face. She smiled softly, though her eyes questioned him, asking if he was okay. He nodded and she squeezed his arm as if to give him reassurance before returning her hand to her lap.

The two looked to the head of the table in time to see Anderson's grin falter a bit, as he sent the man a dirty look. "And this would be Bartholomew Max, our Head Auror." Max looked at Hermione with a slimy smile. He had a thick, black handlebar mustache that matched the thick black hair that hung in front of his eyes. He wore an oversized construction orange sweatshirt that made his thin neck look twelve times longer than it was. His shoulders were large and wide, but his arms stuck out like twiggy toothpicks from his rolled-up sleeves. He was unprofessional at the least, and Hermione and Draco were both not impressed.

There was a knock at the door. Anderson stood and moved his hand to the right a bit and the door opened to reveal a tall blonde woman with wild, pale blue eyes. Her smile radiated a happy warmth and everyone in the room seemed to relax upon seeing her, the previous tension in the air melting immediately. She practically skipped toward Anderson and hugged him tightly. Draco saw Hermione's eyes squint a bit, a slight frown pulling at her lips.

"Just in time, Al." Anderson said, holding her tightly as well.

She laughed and pulled back. "Awe, you know I wouldn't miss this, Austin." She turned away from the Minister and looked to the room's guests. "Oh my god! I'm so rude!" She ran over, extending her hand to each of the them. "I'm Alice!"

"These are our guests from the European Ministry, Alice," Anderson introduced. "The Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head of Investigation Hermione Granger, and Auror Draco Malfoy."

At Draco's introduction, Alice's eyes lit up. "Awesome! I'm an auror too!" She gripped his hand tightly and stood too close for Draco's liking.

"That's wonderful," He mumbled with forced politeness that he soon regretted in seeing Hermione's giggles over the girl's shoulder. He frowned at her as soon as Alice turned away.

"Is there anyone else with knowledge of the assignment?" Kingsley asked as everyone sat down once more, Alice in the seat at the other head of the table between Draco and Bartholomew.

Austin nodded, his face becoming serious. "I have a few Aurors on standby if we need assistance. But for the most part, this is about it." He motioned across the table. "I know we wanted to keep this on the D.L."

Draco scoffed. "What the hell is a D.L.?"

Alice giggled and touched his arm lightly. "It means on the 'Down low'. We wanted to keep it secret."

Draco glared at her hand and pulled his arm under the table. "Thanks."

Hermione sat up in her seat and looked at Kristina. "So what information do you have so far on the Black Kings?"

"Well," Kristina stood up shyly, keeping eye contact flitting between Hermione and Anderson. "First off, they don't call themselves the Black Kings. I've been able to intercept a few emails sent back and forth between a couple of perceived members, to find they actually call themselves the Knights of Walpurgis."

Draco frowned. "I've heard of them. My father used to speak of them with my uncle Rodolphus."

"You seem to be well connected to those Death Eater shits." Bartholomew spat.

Anderson stood. "You seem to have an ego too big for this room, Max." The two glared at each other. Draco began counting his breaths again. "Don't make me question your positioning again, you understand me?"

Bartholomew nodded slightly, shifting his glare back to Draco. "What did your dear daddy say about these Knights?"

Draco took a deep breath and looked at Kristina, mentally deciding to remain ignorant to the dick across the table. "That was the original name that Voldemort chose for the Death Eaters."

Kristina nodded happily. "That's right! We've narrowed down a few members, including two out of three of the leaders."

"How do we know there's three of them?" said Alice.

Kristina looked like a kid on Christmas. "The emails. The two leaders we know for sure of are Edmund Travers and Manon Mulciber, both sons of Death Eaters." She glanced over to Draco. "You recognize either of those names?"

He looked at Hermione nervously and she nodded, urging him to speak. "I knew of their fathers," Draco said. "Eddie Travers was maniac I'd always avoided, and Manon wasn't the brightest of them all."

Hermione smiled to herself. It was so strange to see Draco so vulnerable and cautious, when he'd always been so confident. He still looked and acted the supreme ass he'd always been, but she could see through the mask. He was terrified.

She looked to Katrina again. "Any other names that we know of?"

"We know all of them, actually. All except that third leader." She lifted a briefcase from under her chair and pulled out a stack of papers, to which she passed one to each person at the table. There were six pictures each with a name and description beside it. "We have Travers and Mulciber, both sons of Death Eaters. Mulciber's sister, Zona, is also a member," She pointed to the third picture, then moved it down to the fourth. "As well as his wife, Simone."

"Quite the family affair." Draco mumbled.

The room became suddenly still, the air tight once more. Hermione followed everyone's gaze to the end of the table. Alice's eyes were glossy and her lip trembled slightly. "Are you alright, Alice?" She whispered, afraid that if she spoke any louder, the girl would crumble.

Alice found her eyes and smiled, though it was the most pitiful smile Hermione had ever seen. "Simone, Manon's wife?" She sighed, and laughed slightly as she toyed with the corner of her paper, never losing eye contact with Hermione.

"Simone's my baby sister."

**A/N: Dun, Dun, DUUUN. More to come. R&amp;R. :)THANKS!**


	7. The Knights

**A/N: I would first like to apologize for repeating a post, but I have updated it so there is no double chapter posting! Yay! Thank you Beccax95, Victoria, and daniiibabiii for letting me know in the comments!**

**I also would like to note a change I am making to the first chapter. I made a boo-boo, and originally wrote that the Knights of Walpurgis were located IN the Space Needle. However, that is where I've located the American Ministry of Magic, so that can't really happen. Reread chapter one to see the changes!**

**Thank you so much to all of the stories followers. I'm working hard on making sure I keep this going whilst still having a life and I appreciate your love and patience! :)**

* * *

Two figures dressed impeccably in black walked through Pike's place market with an icy air about them. Despite the obvious signs that they were not of the area, no one stared. It was normal for a business group to walk through town to pick up a coffee and some lunch, so the duo attracted no attention.

"Bloody muggles won't get out of the way," A deep, raspy voice came from the tallest of the two, Manon Mulciber. His sharp features were turned down in a disapproving grimace as he watched the groups of hippy homeless that walked by. "They all smell like hemp and coffee."

"That's what happens when we pick a bustling city a million miles away," The man next to him growled. He was far from short, but looked so next to his tall, thin colleague. They share a look of distaste before returning their intense glares towards the smoke shop across the street from the bustling market place.

They entered, a harsh buzz noting their arrival to the old man sitting behind the counter. They approached him, waiting for his wheezes to turn to hacking coughs to deep, grumbling sighs.

"What can I do you for?" He grunted. His voice and figure shook under the weight of Parkinsons, though it was easy to see he was concentrating hard on sitting still.

The two men shared another annoyed glance. "We'd like a pack of the Knights." The shorter one, Edmund Travers, groaned out the code, as if it took all his strength to push the words through his pursed lips.

The old man coughed again and nodded. He pressed a button underneath the counter and the three of them watched as a door revealed itself behind some shelving to their right. A dank stairway led them upward into the apartment complex above, where they'd charmed three of them to be one giant room for their headquarters.

At the end of the room was a long glass table where six members sat quietly. Their eyes turned to the two men slowly, watching their every move as they approached the group. The tall man walked to his left and sat in an empty seat besides a beautiful brunette with wide blue eyes that glowed with life. When he was comfortable, he extended his hand to her and caressed the top of her hand with his thumb without a glance in her direction.

"Where were you?" Her voice was quiet and sweet, though her tone was dry, like she hadn't a care in the world where her husband had been.

"Stuck in traffic, Simone darling." He deep voice groaned.

Their eyes found one another and for a split second, the sparks between them ignited if only for a moment. They had to play this way in front of the rest of the group, wearing a mask of boredom and disconnect from one another. Alone, Manon treated Simone to be the true gift that she was to his life. Alone, they were comfortable. Open. Honest. Talkative. They were always laughing and joking and enjoying one another's company. For this split second of eye contact, they were happy and in love.

But with the rest of the Knights, professionalism was key. And if they were to be taken seriously in any way, their adoring relationship had to be hidden in this company.

The couple turned their attention toward Edmund, who sat two seats away from Manon. Between the two sat a young woman with wild raven hair and maniacal eyes that shifted impatiently around the room. She stood, the air around her buzzing with excitement and power. She held herself tall, despite her five foot two height.

"It seems that the Ministry is onto us." Her voice echoed smoothly across the table, holding everyones attention with ease. "Their efforts to follow us have doubled and it looks to be as if they've received backup from Shacklebolt and his Aurors."

A few snickers danced around the table till the woman held her hand up, silencing the room once more. "Don't take their trying too lightly. My concern is not completely sarcastic." She stood from her seat and began to circle the table. The heels of her boots clicked across the concrete with the ominousity of a ticking clock, synchronizing the steady heartbeats of everyone in the room. "What do you think we should do about this, North?"

At the opposite end of the table from where she had sat, a man with black eyes leaned forward, the muscles tightening under his thin black tank top. "You know what I think." He said, his American accent stark against her British. His voice was like velvet, the words dripping from his mouth.

The young woman smiled knowingly, as if she had expected his response. "Tell the group." She spat.

The tan in his cheeks glowed pink for a slight moment, though quickly returned to it's natural dark shade. He ran a hand over his shaved scalp, thinking to himself for a moment. "I think we should relocate."

"He thinks we should relocate!" The woman turned on her heel, now crouching over his shoulder, grinning like mad, a curious twinkle in her eye as she laughed uncontrollably. She repeated her exclamations over and over, digging her fingernails into his skin. His face flinched with every word she screamed into his face and he could feel the pit of his stomach clench uncomfortably. "Lady Mulciber!"

Simone's small frame jumped slightly in her seat, closing her eyes as she regained composure. "Yes?" She whispered.

The mad woman grinned at the girl's fear. "Simone, Simone, Simone. Why is it that it would be a bad idea to relocate?" The volume of her voice was low and deep, her heels clicking until she was now standing behind Simone, a hand possessively on each shoulder. Beside Simone, Manon held back angry growls, tightening his grip on his wife's hand.

Simone swallowed back her fear, breathing deeply as she recited the words the woman so often used. "Because it would be a silly gesture."

The woman let out a happy sigh, releasing Simone's shoulders as she returned to her seat. Manon and Simone held each other's hands tight. The woman's heels clicked to an excited rhythm as she practically danced around the table. "Never have such truer words been spoken!" She cried. She stopped suddenly, her palms slamming onto Mr. North's shoulders. He shut his eyes, but did not flinch, even as her nails tightened into his flesh. "We must never leave this building. It is where we stay. However," her grip loosened, her hands sensually tracing down the muscles in his arms as she bent down, her mouth a whisper away from his cheek. "Our dear Patrick North has given me an idea."

A loud smack left ruby red lip prints on North's cheek and in almost a blur, the woman had left the room. The table remained silent for a moment, the room still claustrophobically full of tension.

"Well," A man sitting in the center of the table cleared his throat. "She always knows how to keep us on her toes."

The woman beside him nodded. "Just like her mother, she is."

Edmund grinned, his eyes twinkling darkly as he stood slowly from his seat, buttoning his jacket to leave once more. "Once a Lestrange, always a Lestrange."

**A/N: Thanks again for reading and sorry it took so long to update! Please R&amp;R!**


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